


Unexpected

by mcaulfield



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Does this qualify as a possession au?, F/F, This might qualify as a possession au., bfa spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2020-09-08 03:28:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20295562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcaulfield/pseuds/mcaulfield
Summary: “Do you ever wish things were different, somehow?” Jaina asked. I looked down at our shared hands as she traced the spine of the book she’d taken to reading at night. It was an all right book, though not my usual taste. Her question made me think of every time I’d felt powerless — much as I had since this whole ordeal began.“All the time, Jaina.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have writer's block on all of my works! Including this one, which started out as an 'I have writers block on all of my works!' work! So...enjoy this while I try, painfully, to write the next chapters to...well, literally everything D:

As an ever-present, almost-living force, the magics of Azeroth often have... _ unpredictable _ reactions, much like the more base elements of the universe. Like two chemicals of unknown properties meeting, so, too, are two individuals’ manifestations of the magic they wield — frost, fire, arcane, Light, Void, and so on. Not many react well to the magics of the dead. This, I know beyond a doubt.

Whenever an individual’s magic reacts less dramatically to mine, willing to dance with it in proper battle rather than hungrily seek its final end, it intrigues me. I’d often wonder what it meant — would my opponent’s soul linger beyond their death, remaining, unwilling to part with this world so soon and so accepting my raising of them into undeath? Did it intrigue them? Would they retain their powers as Forsaken? Answers I would all have in due time. After all, there are few who escape my grasp — and those who do manage to outlast their brush with death do not last long.

There were really only two on the face of Azeroth whose powers I actively wanted to watch my energy interact with: Queen Azshara and Lord Admiral Proudmoore. The former was defeated and resuscitated by N’zoth, sucked further into the depths of the seas before I had even stepped foot in Nazjatar. The second, however…

Lady Jaina Proudmoore, Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras, former Archmage of the Kirin Tor, and unfortunate Alliance  _ dog _ stood before me, opposing me with some trepidation.  _ She does not know what to make of me,  _ I mused, a slow smirk spreading across my lips. Her Alliance champions fought alongside some of the traitorous Horde rebellion through my loyalist forces and now looked up to where I’d perched on one of the massive totem poles of Thunder Bluff to watch it all unfold. She watched me as one might watch a caged animal, something unpredictable, something dangerous. She put on a brave face for her champions but I could practically smell the fear that hid poorly beneath her disapproving glare. I jumped down from my perch, landing quietly below. I began to walk towards them.

“The look you’re giving me reminds me of the look my  _ mother _ would give me as a child when I’d gone off and done something I’d ought not to,” I purred. Many of the Alliance champions stiffened, bracing their weapons as if ready to pounce. Jaina held one hand out to her side in a gesture for them to stand down. I scanned their forces — there were a couple of faces I recognized, double agents of mine. Good. It guaranteed a clean escape should it come to a fight I could not leave once I tired of it.

“That’s enough, Sylvanas,” Jaina warned, eyes flaring a frosty blue-white. “Your tyrannical reign as Warchief of the Horde is over. Surrender and we may leave you living.” I chuckled darkly and continued to close the distance between us. Her words reminded me of a similar line fed to me by one little lion back in Lordaeron.

“And you think your little troupe of mongrels is going to stop me?” I asked. Jaina glared, opening her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. By this time, I was face to face with her, so I took her chin between my forefinger and thumb.  _ “Surely,  _ you know it’s going to take more than  _ that.  _ Tsk.”

Jaina brought one hand up to grasp my wrist. Her touch all but  _ burned _ against my skin, building in intensity and wrapping around my wrist like a handcuff. I sighed, already growing bored with this exchange. It was not as lively as I expected it to be, far less violent and I had been looking forward to a way to burn off a bit of energy. Perhaps that would still occur if I just slipped out from Jaina’s painful attempt to cuff me.

As Jaina’s magic enveloped my wrist, closing in tighter, I discarded my corporeal form to slip out of her grasp. An easy shift and then a twist backwards and I’d be a few feet away from her — if I’d been able to slip out, of course.

No, of course that wasn’t so simple. As Jaina’s arcane closed in around the vaporous undead magic of my banshee form, I watched as her energy’s curious nature caused it to slide in between the particles that made up my own energy.  _ My _ energy, on the other hand, did what it usually did when presented with a source of great power and life — it sought to consume it.

The reaction would have brought a smirk to my lips had the experience not been so  _ painful. _ It was like a vacuum had been created at the point where our magics collided and co-mingled in the air and I found myself struggling to pull away. Jaina stared at that spot in the air, jaw slightly slackened in surprise. A wail began to build in my throat as the location where our magics collided swelled and swirled, drawing more of me back into it.

It felt as though I were clawing at the air, nails scraping over particles I could not get a grip on. For all the things I’d thought might happen when my magic finally contacted Jaina’s, this was not on the list. And, based upon the shock written clearly on her face, Jaina wasn’t doing this intentionally, either. The reaction was entirely organic.

As quickly as the reaction had sparked, suddenly the swollen orb of mixed energy I’d been slowly dragged towards and partially into flashed a bright purple-white and disappeared back into Jaina’s hand...with me.

The next thing I saw was my armor clatter to the ground in front of me. In front of  _ us, _ for I was, with a cursory glance at my surroundings, clearly somehow bound to Jaina’s body. It was not a possession, for I had no control over her movements. I was just trapped. Desperately, I tried to separate myself from Jaina’s energy, from her body, from  _ any _ part of the  _ fucking _ Lord Admiral—

_ Sylvanas,  _ ** _stop._ **

Jaina’s voice pierced through my psyche, causing my thoughts to come to a grinding halt. Glancing down, I saw black smoke rising from Jaina’s forearms — much as it would come forth from my skin had I been  _ out of that body _ and manifested in my own. Jaina’s voice had sounded shaken in my mind.

_ Did you think that I had possessed you, Proudmoore?  _ I asked, directing my thoughts into her energy.

_ Oh, so you  _ ** _weren’t_ ** _ getting ready to turn around and unleash us both upon the Alliance? _ She replied. I found I could not hear her thoughts, only the words directed specifically towards me. Convenient.

_ As glorious as that would be, I would like to be back in my own body, thank you,  _ I responded.

_ Considering that I don’t know what the  _ ** _fuck_ ** _ just happened, Windrunner, I’m not certain that’s even possible right now. _ She sounded as though her panic and frustration were mounting as mine was. I couldn’t separate myself from her energy. I couldn’t separate myself from her body in the way I’d transform into my banshee form. I couldn’t even—

I raised Jaina’s right hand. So scratch that off the list, I  _ could _ control her body should I truly need to. But she was quick to regain said control and was able to prevent me from any further experimentation with that. The panic must have provided a lapse, during which I was able to control it. Interesting. I had a feeling that would be useful later.

_ And what of your... _ ** _champions?_ ** _ What will you do now that the Warchief of the Horde lives inside of you? _ Perhaps using Jaina’s body as a vessel would provide me with more time. If I could get her to play along, I could even perhaps get farther with my plans. Which...was unlikely, for sure, but perhaps would be worth a shot if this condition proved to be even somewhat lasting. I felt Jaina’s chest heave in a sigh.

_ I...am not sure.  _ She turned to look at them, then, the twenty-to-thirty of their jaws mostly slack in surprise.

“Did you just…?” One of them began to ask hoarsely. The Kaldorei woman cleared her throat and began again, this time with the smoothness I’d come to expect of even our most savage of elven brethren. “Did you just  _ consume _ Sylvanas Windrunner?”

I felt Jaina tense in shock at the elf’s word choice. I longed for the ability to roll my eyes — as if someone could just  _ ‘consume’ _ me like that.

“I...no,” Jaina began, though she sucked in a breath at how her voice sounded. Many of the Alliance champions stiffened, as well.

_ Well color me surprised, Lord Admiral, _ I communicated.  _ It seems  _ ** _I_ ** _ was not the only one transformed by this...reaction of sorts we seem to have had. _

“No, I did not  _ consume _ the Warchief, as I’m sure you can hear,” Jaina continued. “Our magics seem to have had an...unexpected and unpleasant reaction. I can assure you it is much to my chagrin that she continues to exist despite this.” The statement seemed just as directed towards me as it was a response to the Kaldorei. Again, I found myself loathing the lack of my own eyes to roll. “I will be heading to Dalaran once we are done here to consult with Khadgar and the other archmages. See to it that the rest of the city is secure and that any other resistance is dealt with swiftly. I must go speak with Anduin.”

_ Ugh. You would force me to endure the boy-king’s company? _

_ No. I simply need them to think that, _ Jaina responded.

_ Oh? _ Was Jaina Proudmoore  _ lying _ to the Alliance? The idea enthused me. Perhaps this course of events would prove fruitful yet.

_ No. You and I are going to go have a little talk while  _ ** _I_ ** _ have a stiff drink. _ I chuckled internally at her response.

_ I hope, for both our sakes, that you have good taste in alcohol, Proudmoore. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given the shortness of the first chapter, I decided this fic will end up being more of a shortform piece. It'll make it easier to work on as my in-between-bigger-chapters-of-more-complex-works fic, which is always good when it comes to getting out updates. It's going some fun places, too, which is always enjoyable to write.

Though perhaps I should not have expected any less of a Kul Tiran, Jaina had a pleasantly surprising variety of drinks available in her quarters on her ship — which was grand, at least comparable to but likely surpassing the majesty and might of my own flagship. I was under no illusion about which nation on Azeroth was best suited to seafaring.

One thing that dawned on me when she portaled us to her ship was that I could probably use our arrangement for more than simply information gathering by way of internal communication or memorization of sensitive locations. Carefully monitoring how Jaina wove the arcane through the air to craft a portal, I found I could see and sense the arcane as  _ she  _ could. If I could hone this sense, I could perhaps grow my own skills.

It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that banshees could take on the powers of those they possessed. Perhaps it wasn’t commonly  _ discussed _ but it was certainly used to our advantage in the campaign in Northrend when we were closing in on Icecrown Citadel. It was a temporary thing, as most powers are bound to the body which has command over them, but the arcane is an element of magic that responds and is manipulated in ways not unlike some of the skills I already had. If I could somehow develop a sense for it as Proudmoore had, I could potentially expand my own arsenal. It was certainly worth investigation.

My own gradual growth in power certainly could help with that, too. With the associates and pacts I’d made over the years, I’d had a few opportunities to acquire and learn about new sets of magical skills. The typical Forsaken necromancy and the powers of a banshee were not the only tricks I had up my sleeve. Far from it, really. Of course, most didn’t  _ know  _ that, nor would they until we started to approach my endgame, but those other powers were still there. Death magic comes in many forms, after all, and is closely related to a great number of other forces.

_ You’re awful quiet in there, Sylvanas.  _ Jaina’s thoughts cut into my introspection, reminding me harshly of our situation.  _ It’s like I can  _ ** _feel _ ** _ you thinking. It’s unsettling.  _ If I could have smirked, I would have.

_ More unsettling than the idea alone of having the Warchief of the Horde trapped inside your body?  _ I responded, hoping to dodge any questions she could think of to ask about what, exactly, I’d been thinking so hard about. I felt her body stiffen almost as though it were my own. That was going to take some getting used to.

_ Perhaps not,  _ came the terse reply. I watched as she reached to the right end of the liquor cabinet and chose a whiskey I was unfamiliar with — likely human-made, then. But whiskey was a good choice for the occasion. Something strong with a smoothness and a bite; it was a contrast that seemed appropriate, somehow. She huffed in slight amusement at something, then, as she turned to bring the whiskey and a tumbler to the grand, dark wooden desk.  _ I almost asked you to have a seat. _

_ You’ll be delighted to know it would seem I have no other choice,  _ I drawled internally in response.

“I don’t know if  _ delighted  _ is the word I’d go for,” she grumbled as she poured a touch more whiskey than was proper into the tumbler. I had to give her credit for only hesitating slightly in her speech at the dual-tone her voice had taken on as a result of...whatever had occurred that resulted in my trapped state.

_ You know, if any crew heard the esteemed Lord Admiral talking to herself, it might not do well for public image,  _ I taunted. If I was to be stuck in her body, I would make damn well sure I needled her at every opportunity.

“They won’t,” she replied simply. She swirled the amber liquid in the tumbler, watching it almost passively. “No one is on this ship, and no one can  _ get  _ on this ship unless I allow it.” She downed the liquid in one go, the burn of the alcohol lining her throat in a way that I had long forgotten the sting of.

_ So you get the luxury of actually speaking while I remain confined to whatever mental cage you have me in?  _

“You say that as though I  _ wanted  _ this to happen, Sylvanas,” she snipped. It was curious, I found, that she continued to use my first name. Not Windrunner, not Warchief, not  _ banshee,  _ as so many of the Alliance dogs were wont to do. I realized with a hum — that also emitted from Jaina’s lips — that I rarely, if ever, heard my own name anymore. It sounded...almost foreign, at that point. A relic of something long-since forgotten to time. I tested my control over Jaina’s body and took in a breath. A peculiar sensation with how freely her living, human lungs took in air when compared to how it felt to pull air into my own long-dead ones.

“Why is it that you keep saying my  _ name?”  _ I asked, tone slightly scathing. I wasn’t sure if I  _ liked  _ that she kept saying it. I noticed that her voice sounded odd with my accent, her mouth unused to producing words the way I did.

“If you’re going to be stuck in my body, I think antagonizing you wouldn’t do me any favors,” she replied. It made sense, but…

“Why does it matter?” I asked. “I’m the one  _ trapped,  _ after all.” She scoffed, refilling the tumbler but setting it on the desk after.

“As if  _ I  _ had any say in this, either,” she responded, followed by a deep sigh that reminded me again of just how differently breath flowed through living lungs, which muscles pulled the air in compared to how the Forsaken and I did. “We’re stuck with  _ each other,”  _ she grumbled. I hummed.

“That we are. And  _ you  _ are stuck with a change in your voice. How will you explain that to outsiders? And how will you explain what happened today to the rest of the Alliance? I’m sure word has gotten out by now.” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m sure it has, unfortunately. Though the Champions are staunchly loyal,” — I tried not to scoff at that — “they do love to share stories and gossip. I’m sure there are murmurings spreading throughout taverns already.”

“What will you tell them?” I asked, raising one of her hands into our field of view, allowing a touch of Death magic to seep from her skin and curl around her wrist, which she stared at in a combination of what felt like fascination and fear. “How will you convince them I won’t simply take over like this and bring about destruction from within?” Jaina inhaled sharply and I felt her control snap over me like a vice, the magic dissipating instantly.  _ Damn.  _

“Will you  _ not,  _ if I allow you even a touch of free reign like that?” She snipped at me.

“If I did,” I mused, trying and failing to regain control over her hand and the magic I could reach, “You could snuff me out in an instant. It would require your own sacrifice, but you’d be capable of ending it all if you could bring yourself to also end your own life.”

“There’s no guarantee you wouldn’t find a way back anyways,” she responded with disdain.

“No, there’s not,” I agreed, a touch of amusement in my voice. “But you could stop anything I tried. As I said before,  _ I  _ am the one who is trapped.”

She sighed deeply again, resting her head in her hands. I felt the vice-like grip of her magic suppressing mine lessen as her posture slumped slightly and I could feel some of my magic emitting from her skin again, passively reflecting our combined exasperation with the situation.  _ Interesting…  _

“What’s interesting, Sylvanas?” She asked, sounding quite done with the entire ordeal. She didn’t even look up, or she would have seen the black smoke I could feel curling around her wrists and forearms. “And would you stop that?”

“It’s not just responding to  _ me,”  _ I replied, pulling my own emotions back under control to prove the point further. It made me realize learning  _ her  _ magic would be, as I suspected, entirely doable with time. Just as she could potentially learn some of mine — though that would be harder for her to do once I was out of her body than it would be for me to use the energies of the Arcane. Death magic didn’t bend easily to the wills of the living, after all. She looked up, then, and I felt her pulse quicken momentarily in surprise.

“Oh,” she remarked. “...Oh.”


End file.
